Adjustment
by Clio S.S
Summary: Jōi. Dedicated to Sophie, who apparently is an admirer of Takasugi. It's the first story I've written after a half of year break, so I kind of only start remembering how to write again. Be kind - and enjoy it anyway!


[F60.2.] _Morning_

"I'm worried about Jōishishi, Elizabeth."

?

"Yesterday, at our meeteing, some of them preferred to listen to the music than me."

HOW COULD THEY?

"Moreover, they didn't let anyone else listen to it. Each of them had their own... MMG."

MP3.

"I told them many times not to trust that foreign technology. First it was radio, then telephone, and now this. It's impossible for a whole orchestry to get into such a small box. And they were listening to it for two hours!"

...

"Not that I don't care for my people, Elizabeth. What do you think of me? After the meeting, I went to the shop and asked the seller. He told me that the device acts without an orchestra, but you could listen to the music for some hundreds hours instead. Yes, I'm perfectly sure now it's another plot of Amanto: they want to finish Jōishishi this way. I have to prohibit using that stuff ASAP. Hundreds hours! Can you imagine it?"

YOU THINK TOO MUCH OF IT.

"Elizabeth, the future of this country lies in my hands. Who is there to think about it if not- Ah, someone's at the door."

"A package for you, boss."

"It's not boss; it's Katsura."

"Terribly heavy, and it has written 'Fragile' on it. What ever have you ordered, sir? China?"

"Chinese grenades."

"Pomegranates? It would be easier to buy them at a greengrocer, boss?"

"It's not boss; it's Katsura. Bye!"

IT WON'T GET IN THE LARDER.

"Then put it under my bed, Elizabeth. Oh, someone's calling again!"

"Good morning, neighbour!"

"It's not neighbour; it's Katsura. Good morning, Tanaka-dono."

"We have a meeting of our residents' association tonight. We are going to discuss how to manage our backyard. Would you join us? Neighbour Katsura?"

"It's not neighbour Katsura; it's Katsura. Our country needs to be managed, yet you are talking to me about your yard? You should be ashamed! Goodbye!"

YOU SHOULD SUGGEST THAT THEY BUILD A WAREHOUSE THERE.

"Hmm... I think you're a genius, Elizabeth. Arrgh, who's there now?"

"Greeting! I come with a very special offer of a magazine subscription... What are you interested in? Fishing? Design? Or maybe sport?"

"Actually, I'm pretty much concerned with the future-"

"Sci-fi? We have it, too..."

"The future of this country."

"Technology, then, customer, sir?"

"It's not customer; it's Katsura. Do you have anything of politics?"

"Politics? You can't be serious. No-one's give a damn about politics these days..."

"Then, here, have some. The only paper in Edo that speaks truth. It's fresh; I only collected it from the print yesterday. I can give you thirty copies. No need to thank me. Come one day again and take more. We will fight for freedom together."

BANZAI!

"Elizabeth, it's such a beautiful day. Let's go and blow up something."

DO WE REALLY HAVE TO?

"Well, actually we don't. In that case, let's go to the park."

FOR A WALK?

"Yes. In the meantime, we can hang some posters, gather some information and discuss our strategy for the meeting of the residents' association. And then we will set about seizing power."

* * *

[FOV] _Afternoon_

Yorozuya is silent. Kagura-chan and Sadaharu have left for a walk, and Gin-san is having his afternoon nap. Stretched out on the sofa, he has fallen asleep while reading the newest issue of Shōnen JUMP - the picture Shinpachi has seen at least thousand times by now and that never stops bringing smile onto his face. Soft light comes inside through the window along with the laughter of children playing outside and the friendly hum of the street. It's so quiet...

Gin-san mutters in his sleep, "Ketsuno-san... Chocolate parfait... Not at once... One at a time..."

Shinpachi's smile grows wider. Ketsuno Ana and chocolate parfait? Two things Sakata Gintoki loves above all. It has to be a very pleasant dream, then. He man raises his hand and wave it vaguely, as if he wants to push something or someone away, and makes the JUMP fall down on the floor, cover up. He didn't wake up. "Ketsuno-san... Please, wait... I'll get rid of that intruder..." he mumbles and rolls over. "Where's my sword..."

Shinpachi turns his head; the sword is where it uses to be, put next to the desk. Well, today it's even _more_ there; Gin-san complained the drawer was getting out by itself, and used it as a prop. That's Gin-san for you.

Who would believe he is one of the heroes of the Jōi War? Shinpachi knows little about it, for Gin-san never speaks of his past. He can only guess - and is amazed at his own imagination that can somehow omit that look of a bored spaniel cherishing inertia and create the figure of a real warrior. Hachimaki fluttering behind him, in white haori stained by red blood, both his own and that of his enemies, the warrior wreaks havoc and strikes fear into his opponents. The battlefield belongs to him, and those getting in his way are doomed.

_Shiroyasha. _That's what they used to call him. The White Demon. Maybe Shinpachi should visit the library and do some research?

Or maybe he shouldn't. He is pretty sure there is nothing about Gin-san's sweet tooth and fondness of taking naps in the books while this is what defines Gin-san more than anything, isn't it? The Gin-san he doesn't know can't arouse in Shinpachi more admiration than the Gin-san he _knows_. In fact, Shinpachi needs no heroic stories, for Gin-san is already his hero, here and now.

Although Shinpachi would gladly stay here longer, savouring this exquisite moment of calm, he knows the dinner is waiting. He is sure that the smell of his cooking will awake even that lover of chocolate parfait, though it will probably be hard for him to compete with Ketsuno Ana. But, they say that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Not that Shinpachi wishes to get there.

On the other hand...

The smile doesn't leave his face as Shinpachi makes his way to the kitchen. He knows that the heart of that lazy samurai, who is snoring on the sofa and dreaming of the dessert with the weather girl at the moment, is able to hold all people of Edo. At least. He may not be White Demon any more, and he may have replaced his katana with bokken, but he will put up a fight when needed regardless. Tomorrow he will take out the garbage, and the day after tomorrow he will try to beg Otose-san for a week's grace with regard to pay this month rent. Next week he will probably help some former courtesan again, and in the next month maybe he will beat some space monster trying to take over this world. Everything with as much enthusiasm he picks his nose with.

So that he could fall asleep on the sofa when reading Jump some another Monday and dream a dream of the reality he doesn't need to ever wake up from.

* * *

[F43.1] _Night_

The cup flies across the cabin and bounces off the opposite wall. Bansai didn't even blink.

The man hasn't drunk much. It's just one of those days when it's the best to be quiet and not attract any attention. The waning crescent sometimes make him behave this way.

The flask follows the cup.

Shinsuke utters a stifle sound, and then presses his lips tight. His hair falls on his forehead and his only eye, that glistens in the dark. How unusual. It's as if the fire, always seen in his gaze, went out, was put out and flooded, and only the candlelight moves over the moist surface. Bansai is under the vague impression that anyone else would already cry and scream, but Shinsuke doesn't do such futile things.

Not that throwing ceramic is any more sensible. With a swift and bare visible move, Bansai remove the shamisen from his boss' range. Just to be on the safe side.

It seems, however, that Shinsuke is calming down already... Well, in any case, it seems he's not going to throw things any more. He leans back to rest against the frame, his sight fixed on the moon. He will never have it, among many other things and especially that one he wants most.

The night is cold, and there's a draught from the river. The winter is coming; maybe they will even have frost today. Bansai has never liked the winter in Kyōto. "You're going to catch cold," he says although he didn't mean to, for he knows he won't be given a proper reply.

For Shinsuke, never taking his gaze off the sky, simply pulls one knee closer and let his yukata open even more. In any minute, he's going to be more naked than dressed. Never before has he seemed like a child more than now - a capricious and defiant child, but still a child. Bansai suppresses his sigh and throws haori on him. No, today he just can't believe in that fire that supposedly fills the man. He's cold just looking at him. No-one should be cold. Not Shinsuke.

In Kiheitai, Bansai's job, among many others, is to gather information. There isn't a single fact about Takasugi Shinsuke he doesn't know. In times like this he always realizes he preferred he didn't.

In times like this Shinsuke is somewhere else. With someone else. Or without that someone.

Finally, after a short infinity filled with sizzling of the wick and creaking of the boat, and sound of koto coming from some inn, Shinsuke turns to him. He's looking at him... No, he's looking _through_ him, like he uses to. In his world, there are no people. He decided that he would never trust again. That he would never see anyone again.

Shinsuke smiles with a smile that doesn't reach any higher. There's that insane fire burning in his only eye again - rage, fury, _shura_ - he's going to unleash one day. He will bring it down on the earth until there's nothing left but ashes. When he speaks, there is no music to his voice.

"Tell me about our plan to destroy the world again."

Bansai wonders whether Shinsuke knows it will not ease his pain either.


End file.
